Deliverance
by Auna
Summary: Futurefic Series #7: The birth of a family
1. Chapter 1

Title: Deliverance  
  
Author: Auna  
  
Timeline: Approximately 2.5 cycles after Bad Timing (4.22)  
  
Authors Note: This isn't what you requested, or expected. But please, give it a chance. Although it is part of the Aeric/ Brennik universe, this is completely stand alone. You do not need to have read any of the previous fics to understand this. It is a prequel to something much bigger, still in the planning stages.  
  
Credits: I have several people I need to give thanks to. ScaperRed and scrubschick were awsome beta's, as usual.  
  
Sanchez was much more than a creative consultant with this one, he was a driving force, telling me to "hang up and go write!", always willing to discuss plot points when everyone else's eyes glazed over with bored disinterest.  
  
And finally. a couple of people PM'ed me, asking if I had anything in the works. Thank you. Your requests were beautifully timed at moment of discouragement. You know who you are, and I express heartfelt gratitude.  
  
***************************************  
  
She held onto his large arm for guidance as they walked along the dirt road at a leisurely pace. She scuffed her feet with each step simply for the sensation of hearing the dirt fly in different directions. She felt the sun beat against her grey skin and for a microt she was able to enjoy the moment. But the heat reminded her of someone else, and her thoughts quickly became morose once again.  
  
"It'd be too hot here for Aeryn," she observed.  
  
"Yes, she would have had to stay on Moya," D'Argo agreed.  
  
She heard children playing, and she sank even lower into her foul mood. If she was angry at Crichton, maybe she wouldn't fall into self-pity for being blind still. D'Argo never gave up hope, but it had been over two cycles since she'd lost her eyesight and she'd learned to adapt long ago.  
  
Now if she could only convince D'Argo to quit dragging her to various healers and diagnosans. She tried not to get her hopes up, but every time she was told they couldn't help her, she felt a chunk of herself melt away.  
  
Purposely, she turned her thoughts back to Crichton. Three monens ago, he watched as Aeryn's prowler exploded with her in it. For a full monen she and D'Argo took care of cycle-old Brennik, doing their best to comfort her in her fear and confusion over the loss of her mother and disappearance of her father. Her young innocent mind couldn't fathom why he'd locked himself in his darkened chamber, cutting himself off from the rest of the universe.  
  
Finally, Rygel bravely picked the lock and invaded the darkness. When the door closed behind him, all was silent for 600 microts before the shouting and crashing began. The noise could be heard halfway around Moya. Rygel eventually emerged unscathed, and silently carried on as usual. The next morning John arrived at the Center Chamber, described by D'Argo as bleary eyes, bewhiskered, and unkempt. But he was up.  
  
"Where's Brennik?" he asked, not bothering with greetings. Gone was the old easy-going Crichton, replaced by this stranger.  
  
Chiana bit back a comment about him finally remembering he had a daughter, and answered him. "Sleeping."  
  
She figured he nodded since all was silent and she heard him sit across from her at their table. "We're leaving Moya," he stated simply.  
  
Fear coursed down Chiana's spine. Deliberately, she misunderstood his statement. "When are we coming back?"  
  
"Brennik and I aren't coming back."  
  
She jumped from her seat, tossing her plate in the direction his voice had been coming from. Hearing the crash echo from across the room, she knew she'd missed, which only kindled her anger further. "No! You... you can't go! You can't take her away from us!"  
  
"She's MY daughter," he reminded her calmly.  
  
"Well you've done a GREAT job remembering that so far, haven't you!" She knew she was being unfair, but he was ripping apart her family. She felt D'Argo's had on her arm, gently urging her to sit down and be calm.  
  
"Chiana is right, John. You need to be with your friends right now," D'Argo reasoned quietly.  
  
Chiana thought maybe Rygel would jump in with an argument. He had a soft spot for Brennik, but he remained suspiciously quiet.  
  
"I can't breathe here, D." John tried to explain. "She's everywhere. I can... I need... to just leave."  
  
"What about us?" Chiana demanded. "We've been raising Brennik by ourselves for a monen, not to mention the entire cycle before that we helped. And now you're going to just take her away? Frell! Rygel, what did you say to him?" She turned to where she knew Rygel had been eating, ready to wrap her long fingers around his throat, but John held her back.  
  
Somehow he'd come around the table and held her upper arms in his grasp, pulling her back against his chest. His mouth was near her ear, and despite her anger and despair, she began to feel calmer in his embrace.  
  
"Don't go blaming Sparky," he whispered softly. "He told me the truth, which was to get off my ass, quit feeling sorry for myself, and take care of my daughter. He was right, even if I didn't want to hear it. But I can't do that here."  
  
He was going. She ripped herself from his grasp and ran from the room. She didn't need any help finding her own chambers, and she threw herself onto her bed. First, she'd lost her eyesight, then her best friend, and now she was going to lose a daughter and the man who'd been more than a brother, but not quite a lover. Was D'Argo going to leave next?  
  
She wanted to stay in her room until after he'd gone, but in the end she was in the maintenance bay as he and little Brennik boarded the transport pod. He was even leaving behind his beloved module.  
  
She hugged and kissed Brennik and felt John's arms around her, trying to comfort her. "I love you Pip. Maybe someday, when I can handle..." His words ended on a choke and his arms fell away. She listened as they departed, part of her leaving with them.  
  
Moya had never felt so empty before.  
  
"We're here," D'Argo informed her, pulling her back to the present. Grumbling under her breath, she followed D'Argo into the building. Time to hear the bad news once more.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
It was a beautiful clear blue day. Tomorrow the sky would be violet, the next day, pink. Blue was her favorite and Mia sighed wistfully as she looked out the window next to her loom. Her fingers expertly manipulated the threads, and the intricate pattern emerging in the cloth went undamaged by her lack of concentration.  
  
"I heard that," her husband, Nepehi said from across the room. He sat at their all-purpose table, a magnifying glass suspended over one eye by a headpiece. He was in the process of putting the final touches on the beautiful timepiece for grouchy Mr. Mclelan down the road.  
  
Her attention was momentarily diverted as she watched his busy, long grey fingers. They could manipulate her just as expertly as they were manipulating that clock. He smiled with dark grey lips, knowing she was watching and where her thoughts were traveling, and briefly lifted black eyes to her. "You know I'm behind schedule. St'nlee has been waiting for his Assistor for two weekens already."  
  
"But, it's blue!" she cajoled, gesturing out the window with hand and tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder with the other. It was a strategic move, knowing how much he loved her hair, and she was pulling out every trick she could think of. "You know it's my favorite." She turned blue eyes to him, batting her eyelashes delicately. She was probably overplaying her hand, but... it was blue!  
  
He raised one dark grey eyebrow in amusement, smiling indulgently. "All right, Mia. Let me finish this, and then we'll deliver it on our way to a picnic." Her smile was reward enough to justify the small delay. "But, when we get back, I HAVE to work on the Assistor."  
  
Her face felt as if it might split in half, but she couldn't contain her smile. "That's perfect. I'll be able to finish this cloth." She paused for a microt before continuing. "It's not just for me, you know. Shedya hasn't been out of this house in days."  
  
Nepehi laughed. "Shedya is only three monens old. I doubt he's noticed, or even cared."  
  
"Well, I do."  
  
"I know Mia," he responded. "That's one of the things I love about you. You always notice, and you always care." He didn't look up from his project, but the loving words washed over her, making her feel cherished. Tears sprang to her blue eyes and she had to fight to keep them in check.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Even with her pants on, the diagnosan's examining table was cold. They were always cold. The frelling room was always cold. She shivered slightly and wished she'd brought her jacket. She briefly thought about sending D'Argo back to Lo'Laa for it, but that would mean calling him back into the examining room. It had taken her longer than she would have liked to convince him to wait in the adjoining room. She was tired of his hovering; it made her feel claustrophobic.  
  
She heard a door open and felt the two presences enter the room. Two distinct sets of footsteps came toward her. "Hello," a woman's voice greeted. "I am the diagnosan's assistant, Hilameen. I am going to touch you now."  
  
Chiana nodded consent and felt a warm hand placed on her shoulder, gently urging her to lay back. Familiar with the routine, Chiana knew the fastest way to get this over with was to be as cooperative as possible, so she did everything asked of her willingly. The woman needlessly explained each familiar test as it was performed. Chiana felt her eyes opened and examined, dutifully looking left and right, up and down when asked.   
  
As she answered various routine questions, she heard equipment wheeled closer and knew from past descriptions from D'Argo what each machine looked like and what their functions were. Finally, she felt the diagnosan put a hand on either side of her head, gently massaging her temples.  
  
The diagnosan's singsong voice chirped, and Chiana knew the exam was over. This was the part where she was told there was nothing they could do. Trying not to let the same disappointment engulf her, she told herself it didn't matter. She had already known what the results would be when she'd gotten here, so she wasn't losing anything new.  
  
"He says there's a way to restore your eyesight," the woman translated. Chiana nearly fell off the table. "It involves a transplant of both eyes. He feels the receptors in your brain are fine, but your eyes have been damaged."  
  
"A transplant. That... that means you need a donor. I can't take someone else's eyes!" An entirely new and different misery crowded out every other emotion. There was a way for her to see again, but it was unobtainable.  
  
"He only takes donations from somebody who is already deceased."  
  
"I've heard THAT before."  
  
"Every one of them has already signed a waiver in advance granting permission." Chiana's hopes soared. If there was a willing don... "Unfortunately, we do not have any compatible samples in stock right now. He says that your eyes are not getting any worse, and if you check with us at a later date, or give us a means of contacting you, that we'll perform the operation when we've received the correct tissues."  
  
"Yeah... sure." Chiana mentally picked her shattered hopes from the floor. The likelihood of them receiving a Nebari donor was laughable. "Thanks."  
  
She gave them the information they needed and then climbed from the table, dreading the upcoming interview with D'Argo. Now she'd never be able to convince him to quit dragging her from healer to healer. Maybe she wouldn't tell him. After all, she was the master of lying, wasn't she? 


	2. Chapter 2

Mia hummed as she cheerfully loaded the picnic basket, her blond hair swinging freely around her shoulders, her blue eyes bright with excitement. The Thermisens commissioned cloth was finally finished and she was feeling justifiably proud of herself. Their request had been difficult and she had far exceeded her own expectations. Today's outing would be a celebration.  
  
Dancing to her own humming, she left the kitchen, passing Nepehi's work table on her way up the stairs to their loft-bedroom. Knowing she had successfully distracted her mate, she added an extra swing to her hips as she danced, giving him a nice show as reward for preferring to watch her over his clock. She loved it when he couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was glad he couldn't see her smug look of satisfaction as she disappeared into their room.  
  
Shedya was awake in his crib and smiled with dark grey lips, giggling and kicking his feet when he saw his mother. She scooped him into her arms, nuzzling his rosy pink cheek. A chubby pink hand grabbed her hair, tangling black fingernails in the blond curls.  
  
"Ouch, little boy! Your grip is getting stronger!"  
  
His black eyes sparkled in merriment as she juggled holding him with one hand, trying to untangle her hair and loosen his grip with the other. It took a moment, but finally she was free and she placed him back in his crib in an effort to keep him out of mischief while she prepared for their outing.  
  
The low rumbling in the distance started so quietly, Mia didn't notice the change. But the noise grew louder, slowly moving closer and she finally registered the foreboding familiar sound. Her heart raced as the first pounding shots rained down around the village. Not again! Was there nowhere they could live safely? Nearing panic, she ran to the landing yelling Nepehi's name, only to find him halfway up the stairs.  
  
"They're back, they've found us!" she cried. "There was no warning! There's always a warning. None of us will make it to the transports in time! This place was supposed to be different!"  
  
"Calm down Mia. We've got to stay calm! We have Shedya to think of this time. We've planned for this. Can you help me?"  
  
She forced herself to calm down, knowing he was right. She needed to think rationally right now. Prepare Shedya. She knew what to do; she had drilled for this very occurrence several times. If nothing else, Nepehi was always prepared. Waving to him to let him know she'd gotten herself under control, she rushed into their room.  
  
The ground shook and the walls rattled with each pounding blast of weaponry. Not as many would make it out this time. Their little community usually had more warning for evacuation. They had all grown complacent, thinking they'd finally found a home that would accept them. They should have known better.  
  
Ripping open a drawer, she yanked out a vial of yellow liquid and an injector. Everything was pre-measured, so all she had to do was place the vial in the applicator and inject her baby.  
  
She felt bad for Shedya; he'd just woken from his nap. But for what lay ahead, they couldn't afford for the infant to start crying. Everything from this moment on depended on stealth. As her son's eyes drooped closed, a new confidence surged through her, filling her with optimism. They'd done this before, they could do it again.  
  
She heard their front door crash open and she peeked into the common room to find Nepehi surrounded by three black suited Peacekeeper soldiers, all holding pulse rifles. One kept his weapon trained on the Nebari, while the other two began searching the room.  
  
"Where's your Sebacean wife?" one of the soldiers demanded. Their intelligence was more complete this time. It was amazing what some would be willing to pay to wipe out competition, especially abominations such as their community. She knew these soldiers would take immense personal satisfaction in killing them, given the slightest provocation.  
  
"That tralk left me last weeken," Nepehi responded. That was her cue. She needed to quit wasting time. He had put his own life in jeopardy to save theirs, and the only way she could hope they'd all get out alive, was to not be seen when the soldiers came looking.  
  
Snatching Shedya into her arms, she quietly loosened a board in their wall, exposing a small nook big enough for her and Nepehi to crouch in. It would be comparably roomy without him, and she realized she preferred the hiding space when it was cramped with both their bodies. Replacing the board, their niche was undetectable. Nepehi was an excellent craftsman.  
  
The only light was one small crack between the boards, which gave her a partial view of the Common Room. She could see the movement of two soldiers, and luckily, she had a full view of her mate. He was calm, and his demeanor gave her strength. He had always been her strength. Their voices were muffled and she couldn't hear the interrogation, which was becoming more aggressive.  
  
Heavy, measured footsteps ascended the staircase, punctuated by the sound of blasts outside. Ironically, as long as the soldiers were in their house, they were fairly safe from Prowler fire. Slowly they came closer and she counted off each step. Seven, eight, nine...  
  
She heard their bedroom door slam open, and a single set of loud footsteps slowly circled the room. They paused by the bed, the crib, the closet. She pictured the soldier looking under and around each. When they passed her hiding space they paused. She held her breath, willing the soldier to move on.  
  
To her horror, the grunt began tapping the walls with the butt of his rifle, checking for variances in sound. Evidently, the Peacekeepers had learned their tactics. But Nepehi had prepared for that as well, and constructed the walls to sound the same. She didn't know how he'd managed that, and right now, she only had enough thought to thank him in her heart for his foresight.  
  
Keeping one eye on the crack in the wall and one ear to the soldier in the room, she tried to keep track of everything that was happening. The soldier had moved on, continuing their thorough search. She thanked whatever deity that had prevented those butchers from bringing scent trackers, and made a note that the same mistake would probably not happen next time.  
  
Downstairs, one soldier was ransacking the food preparation room, the other keeping guard over the silent Nebari. The sounds of destruction began in her room, and she knew that the crib her mate had taken six monens to hand carve was becoming decimated. At least Shedya wasn't in it.  
  
Mia held her infant snugly in her arms, comforting herself with his warm bulk as her beloved house turned to rubble around her. Abruptly, the mayhem ceased, and for several microts, the only sound was the continuing pulse blasts outside. Then, to her horror, she saw Nepehi grabbed by two soldiers, shoved to his knees and a pistol shoved against the back of his neck.  
  
One of the guards leaned down, whispering something in his ear. She heard him spit at the soldier, yelling, "I told you, they're not here! You already searched!"  
  
Those were the last words he would ever speak. Before the sentence was finished, a single pulse blast echoed throughout the entire house, to Mia, drowning out the sounds of the cannons outside. Time slowed and she felt that it took her beloved forever to fall from his knees to the floor.  
  
She almost cried out. She almost ran from her hiding place to avenge her husband. She wanted to kill them all. But she was alone, weaponless, powerless, and she had her baby in her arms. Now the infant was all that she had left of Nepehi, and she vowed to do whatever was needed took to save him.  
  
To her surprise, one soldier lifted her mate into their arms and carried him outside. She had no idea where they were taking him, and silently called farewell to his retreating form.  
  
The upstairs soldier had evidently finished his task, because he had joined the remaining soldier downstairs, and the two were dumping lantern fuel over the entire room, concentrating on her loom and Nepehi's carving and repair tools. Numbly, she watched as everything left that she had held dear was soaked, knowing what the outcome would be.  
  
That hadn't been her first loom, she reminded herself, trying to keep her thoughts coherent in her grief. She could always replace it, unlike her greatest loss. She choked on a silent sob as her mind returned to the love of her life. She still had her baby. Keep thinking about him, and the life he still had yet to live.  
  
One pulse blast ignited the fuel and the two soldiers quickly escaped through the front door. Already, acrid smoke filled the Common Room, but Mia didn't dare move until she felt sure the soldiers had left. At last, she kicked the panel, sending their camouflage across the room.  
  
A new determination filled her. Nepehi wasn't here to give her direction, but she found that her mind moved quickly, thinking of things he'd taught her in the past. Grabbing her wicker carrying bag, she dumped the spare thread and weaving materials onto their bed. She grabbed the Thermisens' new cloth and hastily covered the bottom, gently placing her son on the material. Luckily, his bag of nutrient supplements and diapers had been prepared, and she shoved that in as well, ensuring his face was not covered, but concealing his body. Putting one arm and her head through the handles, the bag was now nestled across her belly. She was as ready as she was going to get.  
  
Opening the door to the loft produced a face full of black smoke. Slamming the door, she ran to the other side of the room to the only other exit, a small window barely large enough for her to crawl through. It was the only way.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
The low rumbling in the distance was merely background noise, the kind she had gotten used to filtering away as unimportant when they were on planets. But the incessant noise became increasingly louder, closer, and harder to ignore.  
  
"D'Argo, something is headed this way; maybe we should get out of here," she said interrupting his description of a hand crafted necklace. He had brought her to this system-renowned Market Street in an effort to cheer her, and he had been uncharacteristically descriptive. She'd been feeling guilty about deceiving him, but now her thoughts were turning to the problem at hand, unsure exactly of what that was.  
  
A blast exploded somewhere off to her left, causing a loud repercussion throughout the crowd. Instinctively, she dropped to the ground, ensuring constant contact with D'Argo. "What's happening?" she yelled to be heard over the explosions and the screaming.  
  
"Frelling Peacekeepers!" was D'Argo's response. She felt his hand on her arm, urging her to crawl forword. "Stay with me!" She didn't need to be told twice.   
  
Noise surrounded her. Screaming, pulse blasts, buildings demolishing on all sides of them became a cacophony of sound, making her wish she could childishly cover her ears to keep it away. It reminded her of the time she'd been stuck in Pilot's body. All the sensations were nearly overwhelming.  
  
Surprisingly, she was able to use the memory of the brief time as Moya's navigator to concentrate. The previous training allowed her to shut out unwanted static, enabling her to concentrate on D'Argo and the instructions he was conveying as they crawled and stopped, crawled and stopped.  
  
Now they were running, with D'Argo behind her telling her when to turn right or left, slow down, speed up. She was out of breath, her ears aching from a blast that had landed five denches from her left ear. Her cheek burned from the rocks that had been splattered over her face.  
  
She knew D'Argo was firing his Qualta Blade, and from the grunting and thudding of unknown assailants, had a nasty suspicion he was occasionally using the weapon in hand to hand combat. But she was disoriented without D'Argo's running commentary and, arms outstretched, tried to continue on. What she would give for a pulse rifle and her eyesight right now!  
  
Smoke began filling her lungs and she could smell fire burning nearby, though she couldn't feel the heat of the flames yet.  
  
An unfamiliar arm grabbed her from behind, and all her instincts took over. Her elbow connected with a stomach, eliciting a grunt and a wheezy "Frelling tralk!" from her attacker. Her fisted hand connected with the face behind the voice and she kicked her foot in the general area of where most mivonks would be located on bipedal males. Sure enough, a harsh intake of breath and a moan preceded a thump to the ground.  
  
She smiled to herself, dusting her hands, before D'Argo grabbed her arm, dragging her forward once again. A reverberating screech sailed through the air above them, exploding what had probably been a building next to them. Rock, mortar, shrapnel flew. Chiana felt herself lifted from the ground and counted to ten mippippippi before the ground connected with her body. She felt something in her leg snap, felt the crack of her head against the concrete, and then all went silent.  
  
Chiana realized she must have passed out, for the sounds around her now were markedly different. D'Argo must have carried her to another location. "D'Argo!" she called out, wanting his voice as reassurance. Her call had been drowned by pulse shots, so she tried again. "D'Argo!" she called louder. He didn't respond.   
  
She tried to sit up, but a bout of dizziness sent her back to the ground. She tried to crawl, but searing pain shot up the leg she initially tried to push off with.  
  
She began to panic. For a split microt she was terrified that he had left her too, considering her to be great a burden, but instantly felt ashamed. He was the one individual in the universe who would never leave her. His loyalty was unquestionable.  
  
"D'Argo! Answer me!' she screamed, beginning to realize how alone and desperate she was without him there to help her. He must be hurt, which scared her worse than the battle raging around her.  
  
"Help!" At first she wasn't sure if she'd heard right, but the desperate gurgling plea called again. "Please, help me!"  
  
It was a woman. Chiana had to laugh in the chaos surrounding her. A desperate woman was calling for help to a crippled blind woman. How frelled was that?  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
As she lay on the rubble that had once been a neighbor's home, Mia recognized that she was dying. Gratitude warred with desperation. She wouldn't have to endure this existence without Nepehi, but she had failed Shedya. She'd been so close.  
  
After crawling out her window and scaling down her wall, she'd landed on the ground, mapping in her mind the route to the escape pods. Pulling her bag around so that Shedya was nestled against her back, she constantly kept him between a wall and her body as she sneaked around buildings, avoiding troops, ducking pulse blasts from overhead Prowlers.  
  
She hadn't been stealthy enough, and when the soldier emerged from around a corner, she was unprepared. The female soldier shot her twice in the stomach before running in another direction, not bothering to wait for the results.  
  
At first, Mia only felt a painful burning, but after several microts, even that stopped. She knew she had a gaping hole in her mid-section, had seen her insides herself. But her mind had mercilessly shut down her pain receptors, and she was able to stagger forward, her mind now solely on getting Shedya to the awaiting pods.  
  
Holding her guts in, she'd managed to travel several blocks before the loss of blood made her weak enough to fall to the ground. Even then, she made sure to fall forward, so as not to land on her infant. She had to save him. He was all that remained of Nepehi.  
  
Summoning a reserve of strength she'd been unaware she'd possessed, she began to crawl on her hands and knees, promising herself that she could make it, demanding of herself that she reach safety.  
  
But willpower was not enough, and now she lay in rubble, having had only enough strength left to lift the large wicker bag from around her shoulders and lay it beside her in the crude shelter of some large stones.  
  
All she could do now was watch the battle around her, ignored as dead by the enemy and others trying to escape. When she saw Nepehi with a Luxan across the street, she almost rejoiced, before realizing the Nebari was a woman. The Luxan yelled something and the Nebari ducked, just in time for a pulse blast to land where her head had been. Rocks sprayed over the woman, and she visibly flinched, but continued on.  
  
Three unhelmeted Peacekeepers ambushed them and the Luxan boldly fought two, while one went after the Nebari. She had him on the ground whimpering in microts, and Mia took special pleasure in watching the man writhe in agony. Instantly, she loved this Nebari woman and silently cheered her on, wishing her the best. If only she was closer, she'd beg the woman to take Shedya. Who better for her baby?  
  
Once again the Luxan and Nebari began to run, but a Prowler cannon fired, hitting the building directly behind the two escaping. She watched as the two flew through the air, landing metras from their staring point and several metras apart from each other. Neither was moving.  
  
Mia nearly despaired for the two; they deserved to survive. But then, after several hundred microts, the woman began to stir. The Nebari tried to sit up, but fell back, and had been calling to her companion. Now was Mia's only chance to get the attention of the female warrior.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------  
  
The gurgling cry for help called once again. Chiana had tried to ignore it, there was nothing she could do, but the pain and desperation in the woman's voice clawed at her heart. She had to do something.  
  
"Where are you?" she yelled. "Tell me where you are!"  
  
"Behind... you, across... the street," was the weak response.  
  
"Is there anything between us?"  
  
"Some small... rubble."  
  
"Keep talkin' lady! Let me follow your voice!" An explosion blasted nearby, and Chiana recoiled, arms futilely covering her head. When she was able to think clearly again, she began to pull herself in the direction the woman's voice had originated.  
  
Mindful of her injured leg, she pushed with the other, pulling with her arms. Pain sliced from her ankle to her hip, throbbing and taking away her breath. Gritting her teeth, she forged on. How she was supposed to help this woman, she didn't know. But she was going to try, and crossing this street was the first step.  
  
"Play... dead!" came a haggard cry and instantly, Chiana stopped crawling, sprawled uncomfortably across some crushed bricks. She slowed her breathing, leaving her eyes open, trying not to blink.  
  
Within microts, a large group of heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. One set of footsteps broke away from the troop, and Chiana listened as they grew closer. When they stopped next to her, she knew she was being watched, and held her breath. A boot nudged her head, and she left herself limp, letting her face slam against the rocks. She didn't know how she managed not to grimace, but the soldier must have been satisfied, because he left her, his boots crunching in the scattered debris as he returned to his troop.  
  
She heard several soldiers in the street, probably checking other bodies. Would D'Argo be one of them? At last the boot steps faded, but she didn't dare move.  
  
"They're gone," the woman's garbled voice called, and Chiana realized she was much closer to her goal.  
  
"Keep talking!"  
  
"I... can't." Chiana heard labored breathing and knew the woman was seriously injured. She was fahrbot for continuing this, but some unnamable source was pulling her forward, almost against her will.  
  
Reach, pull, drag, push. Reach, pull, drag, push. She concentrated on one metra at a time, ignoring the sharp stones beneath her and the pulse blasts that continued to rain overhead. "Where are you?" she called again.  
  
"Just... a little... further." She was very close. Three more drags later, she felt her face run into the woman's body. "You're... blind!" the woman realized.  
  
"Kick in the pants, ain't it?" She'd been hanging around Crichton too long. He'd have been proud of that comeback. He should be here, the fekkik, coming up with a really stupid plan to save them all.  
  
"Dying," the woman said on a gasp.  
  
"Not if I can help it. C'mon, together we'll try to get out of here. Help me find my Luxan, and he'll carry you out."  
  
"Not... enough... time." Chiana felt something pushed into her hands. "Dying, you... keep."  
  
"You did not call me over here to give me your prize handbag! I'll drag you if I have to!" Something indiscernible about this woman made Chiana think of Aeryn. She had to save them both. She was irrevocably connected to this stranger now, and she wouldn't let another die.  
  
"You and... Luxan, keep... safe. Keep... Shedya."  
  
She felt a weak hand grasp her wrist and thrust it into a bag. "Shedya," the woman said painfully. Chiana's fingers touched soft flesh, downy hair, and all blood drained from her head. Her heart pounded.  
  
"NO!" she screamed. "You won't do this! You'll raise your baby! We'll get you out!" Tears were streaming down her face and panic was fused into every nerve ending. Aeryn had left behind Brennik, now this woman. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.  
  
The weak hand grasped her wrist once more, and Chiana felt her finger traveling over a smock, until warm liquidy mush filled her palm. This was the woman's guts. This woman wasn't going to live another 600 microts, and Chiana was powerless to stop it.  
  
"No," she cried weakly, denying the truth, what this woman had tried to tell her.  
  
"Save...Sh..." The woman's breathing was shallow and ragged, but her urgency was still as great as ever.  
  
She clutched Chiana's wrist with all her waning strength, and her sheer stubborn desperation made Chiana think of Aeryn again. And Brennik, a bundle of confusion and tears in her arms the night Aeryn had died. *You knew we'd take care of Brennik and John,* Chiana thought, tears starting to trickle down her face. *You had that at least, Aeryn.*  
  
"I will," Chiana assured, adjusting her body so she could pull the woman's head into her lap. Softly she caressed her hair.  
  
"Thank..." was the weak reply.  
  
Chiana combed her fingers through the woman's hair with one hand, caressed her face with the other. Bombs exploded around them. Shouting and screaming could be heard from several blocks away. Finally, in the comforting embrace of Chiana, Mia drew her last breath, the name Nepehi softly on her lips. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chiana sat amidst the rock and rubble, gently stroking Mia's hair, tears streaming from her unseeing eyes. All her feelings -- the loss, the torment, the heartache from the last six monens erupted, overwhelming her. Aeryn had died, she knowing it was her fault for asking her friend to return to Moya for a microt to help her. Crichton had left Moya, taking little Brennik with him. She had been told all 52 times that her eyesight was incurable, only to be handed an impossible alternative. And D'Argo was lost, not answering to her cry for help.  
  
She knew she needed to act, to make a decision. She needed to find D'Argo. She needed to check if Shedya was still alive. She needed to develop a plan for escape. But, for an eternity, she was only capable of sitting in shocked silence, running the soft hair through her fingers, mourning loss after loss.  
  
She ran a finger down Mia's cheek, feeling the smooth skin. She was such a young woman. Who was this mother, this woman who'd been filled with enough love to keep herself alive through impossible conditions long enough to save her child? Burning with need for contact, Chiana leaned forward, softly laying her forehead against the woman's in her lap, trying to draw comfort in the connection.  
  
An exploding light flashed in Chiana's eyes, and she felt like their skin was fused together where they touched. Instantly, snatches of memories began flowing from Mia to Chiana, resulting in a stream of continuous vision, all lasting split microts. She was Mia, seeing her life, feeling her feelings. She felt herself crouched in a darkened hole, terrified, horrified, watching her Nebari mate killed brutally for not betraying her.  
  
She saw the same man reaching for her, caressing her face with a look of complete adoration. A crib, a house, Peacekeepers, looms, sunsets, sunrises, angry neighbors, loving friends; memory after memory flashed through her mind.  
  
She saw the moment Shedya was born, felt the pain of him traveling through her pelvis and the joy of hearing his first cry. She felt the sweet touch of Nepehi's first kiss, the awkward moment they first met. Backwards in time she traveled, the memories piling on top of each other, flashing faster and faster as if each were fighting for their chance to survive before this connection was broken.  
  
Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. The light exploded once more, and when the last impression of brightness dimmed, she was sightless once more.  
  
She was exhausted, scared, unsure of what had just happened, unsure of why it had happened. Her shoulders were heaving as she tried to slow her heart rate. Her head twitched uncontrollably, her hands shaking. She'd just lived an entire lifetime in a matter of microts. She'd thought her abilities had ended when she'd lost her sight. Instead, it seemed they'd changed once again.  
  
Slowly, her mind returned to the present, to her surroundings and her current predicament. She was alone, in the middle of a battle, blind, with an infant. How was she going to survive?  
  
"Chiana!" At first, she thought she was hallucinating, conjuring D'Argo's voice from her desperate need for him, but the voice called again, louder, more insistent. "Chiana! Where are you?!" His seemed to echo around her, dispelling any ideas of knowing which direction he was calling from.  
  
"That's a frelling dumb question!" she exploded. "How the hezmana am *I* supposed to know?"  
  
She heard D'Argo's laugh of relief and the familiar sound was a balm to her soul. "Are you injured?" he asked.  
  
"My leg's broken. I'm sitting up, you should be able to find me fairly easily." D'Argo expelled a very creative Luxan epithet, impressing Chiana. "What's wrong?" she asked when he was through.  
  
"I can't get to you. I'm pinned down under a beam. I can't even see you."  
  
Chiana took her turn to spout an equally creative Nebari explicative. "Don't move," she said sarcastically, "I'll try to find you."  
  
Thinking quickly, she gently lifted Mia's head from her lap, kissing her forehead and laying her gently on the rocks. Feeling around, her hand found the bag that had been shoved at her earlier. Reaching inside, she carefully caressed the infant. He was still warm. She placed her hand in front of his mouth. He was still breathing.  
  
This was one tough kid.  
  
Softly, she kissed the tips of her fingers, touching them to his cheek before pulling the handles over her shoulders and neck. She swung the bag around until she felt the baby's bulk against her back. "D'Argo! We're going to play a game Bobby taught me," she called out.  
  
"Chiana, this is no time..."  
  
"Shut up and listen, it's the only way out of this. Your voice is echoing too much." She paused a moment to make sure D'Argo wouldn't interrupt again, and then continued. "It's called Marco Polo. When I yell 'Marco', you yell 'Polo'. Got it?"  
  
"It's a stupid game."  
  
"Yeah, but we're gonna play. Ready?"  
  
"Fine," he agreed, but the tone of his voice let her know what he thought of the idea.  
  
"Marco!"  
  
"Polo."  
  
Chiana listened to the simple word, the shorter length making it easier to zero in on. Clamping her jaw shut to fortify against the pain, she slowly began her "reach, pull, drag, push" maneuver once again, this time with cargo on her back.  
  
"Marco!"  
  
"Polo," D'Argo returned unenthusiastically. "Chiana, I feel silly. I can keep talking..."  
  
"Shut up!" she hollered. His lengthy tirade was bouncing around unseen walls, disorienting her. "Marco!"  
  
"Polo."  
  
Reach, pull drag, push. Her face slammed into something hard, unyielding, and sharp. Warm blood began trickling down her cheek, the searing pain momentarily diverting her attention from the throbbing, shooting pain in her leg. *Concentrate, you can do this* she told herself.  
  
"Marco!"  
  
"Polo!"  
  
She adjusted her direction and began again. Reach, pull, drag, push; stop to breathe and let the throbbing ease slightly, continue again. Reach, pull, drag, push.  
  
"Chiana, it's starting to get dark."  
  
"So?" she asked unsympathetically. "I've got a broken leg, I'm going as fast as I can."  
  
"I didn't mean..."  
  
"Marco!" she interrupted.  
  
"Polo," he answered contritely. The game continued on. Chiana was getting frustrated, beginning to feel as if she were crawling in circles uselessly, when D'Argo called out to her. "Chiana! I can see you! You're about five metras away. Turn to your left and head straight."  
  
Relief poured into her, suffusing her with hope. "Be careful, there is a sharp pole to your right," D'Argo cautioned. Reach, pull, drag, push. Only this time, she had the aid of D'Argo's directions. "That's it, just a little farther," he encouraged, his voice growing nearer.  
  
At last, her outstretched hand was grasped by his, and she felt herself pulled forward into his strong embrace. She was laugh and crying, grateful to be with him again. And though he'd never admit to it, she knew she felt a tell-tale hitch in his breathing.  
  
As she reveled in the embrace, calming herself from her ordeal, other sensations she'd been ignoring began to emerge. She realized the omnipresent pulse blasts had ceased, and all was quiet with the exception of a nearby crackling sound. She also realized the night was much warmer than it should have been, and the smell of smoke was undeniable.  
  
"D'Argo, are we near a fire?" she asked from the confines of his encompassing arms.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How close?"  
  
"Everywhere."  
  
She pulled herself from his arms, lifting the bag from her shoulders and handing it to D'Argo. "Put this somewhere safe... gently." She heard the bag settled and then felt for the beam.  
  
It had fallen across his shins, pinning his legs and making it too awkward for him to lift by himself. Laying flat on her back, she bit her lip to distract herself from the pain in her leg, and wiggled under the beam, barely thin enough to fit underneath, and placed her palms on the flat surface.  
  
Taking a few energizing breaths, she put all her strength into lifting the offending object. She was only able to lift it half a dench for three microts, but it was enough for D'Argo to quickly slide himself out. The bar fell across her chest, and she felt herself being crushed, unable to breathe.  
  
Instantly, the pressure was gone, the pole out of her hands. She moved in time to hear the beam slam loudly to the ground. They were both free. D'Argo assisted her to her feet, and for the first time in arns, she was off the ground.  
  
"Where's the bag?" she automatically asked, concerned for the infant's safety.  
  
"Right here."  
  
She felt the wicker pushed into her arms and she slipped the handles over her shoulders once more, keeping Shedya against her stomach. Sliding her hand inside, she felt for his breath again, reassuring herself her baby was all right. "How far away is Lo'Laa?" she asked, holding D'Argo's arms to keep weight off her worst injury.  
  
"A few more blocks. It looks as if the main force has withdrawn. Scavengers have taken over."  
  
"It's the neighboring city," Chiana informed him. "They hired the Peacekeepers to take out their competition." She was lifted into strong arms and she felt him walking.  
  
"When did you learn this?" he asked.  
  
"A woman told me while we were separated."  
  
"And she left you on your own?" D'Argo asked angrily  
  
"She died." The pain must have seeped through her voice, for D'Argo became silent, not probing further. Quietly, they moved through the streets, Chiana held securely in the safety of D'Argo's arms.  
  
"Only one more block," D'Argo whispered.  
  
A small whimper emanated from the bag and Shedya began to squirm. Abruptly, D'Argo stopped. "Chiana, something in that bag is alive," he said calmly, as if nothing she did would surprise him anymore. Well, she was about to prove him wrong.  
  
"His name is Shedya. I think he's waking up."  
  
"You snurched a BABY?" D'Argo asked incredulously. "I don't believe this. Chiana, we have to find its parents." He began walking again, faster in his agitation.  
  
"HIS parents are dead," she stated flatly.  
  
"Then we have to find HIS family. We can't just kidnap him! I know you miss Brennik..."  
  
"Kidnap?! KIDNAP?! Frell you D'Argo!" If she could have leapt from his arms, she would have. "You didn't crawl across a battlefield, BLIND with a broken leg! You didn't hold a dying woman in your lap as she begged you to save her infant! You didn't listen to her draw her last breath! You didn't live her... FRELL YOU! Shedya is MINE! I'll take care of him myself if I have to, but I made a promise." She tried to squirm from his embrace, but he held her firmly.  
  
"I apologize," he said, trying to calm her. "Let's get this over with and we'll talk."  
  
"There's nothing to talk about," Chiana informed him. "His mother saw us fighting the Peacekeepers and chose us, knowing she was going to die. You didn't make the promise, so you're not obligated. But I did. I'm keeping him."  
  
"How are you going to take care of him?"  
  
She paused, a lump in her throat making it difficult to answer. "I thought I was going to have your help. But I'll manage if I have to." Alone.   
  
There was moment of silence before D'Argo spoke softly. "You won't have to, Chiana, I would never abandon you."  
  
She hugged his neck. "You didn't have to be a fekkik about it."  
  
"There's more you're not telling me, isn't there?"  
  
She nodded. "Later." He sighed and she knew he would drop the subject for the moment. "He's probably starving," she observed.  
  
"We're almost there," D'Argo assured. The baby began to cry in earnest, and the Luxan picked up his speed. She heard him shout the words to make his ship reappear, and then heard his boots on the ramp. The door closed, and the sounds from outside silenced. They were safe.  
  
She felt herself placed gently on a seat, flinching from the pain invoked by the transfer. D'Argo tried to pull the bag from her. "Chiana," he reassured when she resisted, "let me help you."  
  
The bag was taken from her, and a microt later, she felt the crying infant pressed into her chest. She wrapped her arms around the warm bundle, trying to calm him. She began humming a Luxan lullaby that Brennik had loved, and Shedya calmed slightly. D'Argo placed a bottle in one of her hands and helped her reposition the baby.  
  
"Where did you get this?" she asked wondering if it had been left behind by John on accident.  
  
"His mother had been prepared. There is a smaller bag with supplies," D'Argo answered.  
  
Silently thanking Mia for her foresight, she carefully felt the soft face until she found his mouth and slipped the bottle between his lips. Instantly, the crying stopped, replaced by the sound of loud sucking. He moaned in innocent pleasure of his tummy being filled, and Chiana wished she could see him.  
  
Reaching into her mind, she found a memory Mia had given her of Nepehi feeding little Shedya, and she held onto that, feeling peaceful and calm for the first time in monens. She felt D'Argo kneel next to her and run the back of his knuckles gently across her scarred cheek. "You are a beautiful mother," he told her. As they sat together, feeding their child, they couldn't help but feel that this had been their labor. They had come through it together. This was their son. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Chiana." She woke to D'Argo's whispered voice, her arms empty. Panicked, she bolted upright, feeling the floor next to her. "I've got him," she was reassured. "He's sleeping finally."  
  
Chiana nodded. They had spent nearly 28 arns in Lo'Laa, unwilling to try orbit in case the Peacekeepers were still in the area, unwilling to leave the safety of Lo'Laa. Shedya, evidently well rested from his drug induced slumber, had been awake for most of it. For the most part, he was happy and content, but the new parents were unused to having an infant around, and the experience had been taxing.  
  
"We are at the medical facility. I wanted your leg repaired correctly." He didn't mention that she had been so exhausted, she didn't even stir when Lo'Laa had taken flight.  
  
"What, no faith in Grandma?" she asked sarcastically.  
  
"Let's just say that I have more faith in the diagnosian."  
  
Chiana chuckled as D'Argo placed their baby in her arms and lifted her into his. He must have landed at their front door; when she felt him descending the ramp she heard Hilameen's voice nearby.  
  
"We may have to wait, there are several wounded." D'Argo carefully placed her on a hard surface, and she felt him sit next to her. Hilameen's voice slowly and calmly drew closer as she stopped to speak with the injured and administer any initial first aid she was capable of.  
  
Chiana's leg throbbed with pain that she tried to ignore. At last, the assistant stopped in front of him. "Oh, Chiana, you found him!" There were tears in her voice and the Nebari realized this must be difficult for the woman. These people had been her neighbors, and probably friends, and now most of them were dead, dying, or permanently disabled. "When Nepehi and Mia were brought in by the survivors, we didn't know what happened to Shedya." The woman paused, gaining control of her emotions. "There's a small group collecting what few survivors are left. They're a well organized group. I guess this has happened before. They move from planet to planet as a colony, banding together. This was the worst, I think. They all seem pretty lost." She must have realized she was babbling. "Let me show you where you can leave him."  
  
"No," D'Argo stated flatly. Hilameen stopped and there was a moment of silence. "Mia asked us to keep the boy, and we agreed."  
  
Chiana wanted to throw her arms around him in gratitude. This had been his opportunity to give the child away without her consent, and he'd trusted her enough to stand by her.  
  
"Oh, good," the woman was saying. "They really have no resources to take care of all their children. You'll have to wait a few arns for us to be ready to conduct the transplant..."  
  
"What transplant?" D'Argo asked.  
  
"For Chiana's eyes. Nepehi was a signed donor. I assumed you knew."  
  
"No," Chiana said in a shaky voice, "we didn't know." Mia hadn't told her that. "My leg is broken."  
  
"Oh, well, that's easy to fix. I can get you out of here in an arn. But if you're willing to wait, the diagnosan can perform the transplant as well."  
  
"We'll wait," D'Argo declared unilaterally.  
  
"I... I don't know," Chiana said uncertainly. This was Nepehi. They would be dissecting Shedya's father to save her eyesight.  
  
"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" D'Argo asked incredulously. "We have been searching for a cure for nearly three cycles. Now you have a chance to see, and you don't want to take it?"  
  
"It's not that," Chiana defended. "It's just..." she paused, searching for the right words. "Just... like I'd feel like I was stealing." She waited for the obvious statement that it had never bothered her before.  
  
Instead, she felt him gently cup her face in the palms of his hands and lean his forehead against hers. "Chiana," he began softly. "I do not understand everything that happened yesterday. I don't understand the connection you felt, or the visions you described last night." He paused a moment. "But reach into the memories you were given. Tell me, would Shedya's parents be offended by this gift? Did he unwillingly sign that consent? If you tell me 'yes,' we will heal your leg and leave. I will not push you any further. But at least give yourself a chance. Ask them."  
  
His thumb gently caressed her cheek, softly sliding over the new scab that had formed from the cut she'd given herself trying to find D'Argo. She felt his strength, his peace, and found the courage to reach inside herself to find the moment that would help her.  
  
Mentally, she began sifting through memory after memory, searching for a particular moment that would tell her Nepehi had willingly signed those forms and wanted this. It wasn't there. The more she searched, the more she knew she wouldn't find what she was looking for. But in the process of searching, she learned about the small family, their personalities, their loyalties, their love, their selflessness, and she realized she had her answer.  
  
Slowly, she let a stream of air exhale through tight lips. "I'll do it." D'Argo's sigh of relief told her how anxious he'd been about her decision.  
  
"Follow me," the assistant told them, and Chiana felt D'Argo lift her into his arms and carry her into the building.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------  
  
She was nervous. No one was positive this was going to work, and she'd told herself not to get her hopes up, but it was too late. She sat on the end of the cold examining table, swinging her legs to keep her body in motion. Now that her leg was healed, she could truly appreciate her new mobility.  
  
A door opened and she felt two additional presences enter the examining room. D'Argo stood near her, holding Shedya. He must be playing with the boy, for she heard a childish giggle. The pure innocent joy lifted her spirits. He was such a happy baby.  
  
The soft musical voice of the diagnosian greeted them. "We're here to take the bandages off," Hilameen translated. "Are you ready?"  
  
"'Yes, no, maybe,'" she quoted. She heard D'Argo chuckle.  
  
Warm hands brushed her face, and she felt the bandage unpinned. Once, the bandage was unwound, twice, three times. Slowly it became thinner, and dim light began to emerge through the cloth. Brighter and brighter was the illumination until finally, the bandage fell and Chiana found herself looking into deep violet eyes. Hilameen stood before her smiling. She saw the masked diagnosan standing nearby.  
  
Nervously, Chiana began to scan the room, and her eyes rested on D'Argo for the first time in nearly three cycles. Beautiful D'Argo, who stood there large and strong, tenka's streaming down his back, wide shoulders that supporting their infant. His hand was patting Shedya's back comfortingly.  
  
Tears pushed from behind her new eyes, and she couldn't hold in a watery laugh. "I can see you!" she exclaimed, their joy drawing them together. He was laughing with her, sharing her elation. "I can see you!"  
  
She rushed to him; he met her halfway, lifting her into his arms, Shedya between them, sharing their love and happiness. Laughing, crying, they held each other, lost in their moment of joy.  
  
They had all been delivered.  
  
-End  
  
*************************************  
  
This is going to be a little unusual, but I wanted to take a moment in memory of Mia. She was young, beautiful, full of life, possessing an inner strength she didn't know she possessed. I created her for the sole purpose of dying, but when it came time for her death, I found myself devastated. Literally. I sat at my desk unable to type the words necessary, because I was sobbing so hard. I had spent too much time with her and as I sat in the rubble with Chiana and Mia I felt their loss, their pain, their connection. I loved her dearly, and I will miss her.  
  
So, now that it has been confirmed that I'm a fruitcake, I say call me eccentric. But remember beautiful Mia as you do so. 


End file.
